Rusty Stars
by DisneyLover16
Summary: He was a star that always glowed in my eyes. But, it really seemed that he started to consume some bad red rust. That red rust dulled his bright shine and I hated that it did that. Yet, I still called him my star. I still called him that because behind all that red rust was the true star inside that continued to glow. Nothing ever changed that. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

_Good friends are like stars. You don't always see them, but you know they're always there._

The day the Downfall started was not a pretty one at all. It wasn't even called that at first. Actually, it didn't even have a name in the first place. But when your best friend is a famous rock star celebrity, everything got a name, even when absolutely unnecessary.

It began with the car accident.

Austin was on his west coast tour performing at a concert in San Francisco when it happened. I had stayed back home in Miami and was taking care of the store while my dad was out at some convention. Seeing as no one was in the store at the time, I pulled out my laptop and started scrolling through the news online. It all seemed like the same news every day, just with different names of people and places. Okay, maybe not the exact same news every day, but the topics were all similar. There were news about current political dilemmas, announced winners in each sport game, and the occasional child that has gone missing. Of course, I always felt bad about anyone missing – no one innocent should ever go through that experience.

But there was one particular article title that caught my eye: _Traffic Light Malfunction in Miami Car Accident_

I had looked at the date the article was released, which was only from several hours ago; just this morning. How did I not know about this? I mean, I know I live in a city and I'm not going to know _everything_ that goes on in it, but still.

I clicked the link, leading me to more information on the accident. It was brief, and not too much information had been released from the press yet, but enough had been already. My face turned pale as I read through the article.

_The tragedy of yet another car accident has taken place in the city streets of Miami. 3 cars collided with one another after an odd traffic light malfunction. Additionally, the factor of drunk driving is a leading cause as well. Officers detected one of the drivers to have the BAC (Blood Alcohol Concentration) of 0.08, which is in fact, the legal limit. However, the driver was below the age of 21._

_Unfortunately, two fatalities have taken place as well in one of the vehicles. Miami's own Moon Mattress Kingdom owners – Michael and Mimi Moon – have been reported by officials to have been killed during the impact._

_No other injuries from the other drivers and passengers have been reported by the authorities._

The two names were repeated over and over in my head. Michael – or rather, _Mike_ – and Mimi Moon. I stared at the names, breathing heavily, heart beating, palms sweating. Did Austin know? I wasn't sure if he wanted to know yet.

Just then, I heard my phone start to ring. I fumbled for it, and found that it was Austin. Was he calling because he found out? Did he want to talk about it? Or – no. He was on tour on the other side of the country. He possibly couldn't know yet, right?

I wasn't sure whether to answer or not. But what if he did know? I had to be there for him, of course. He was my best friend.

I tapped _Answer_ on the touch screen. "Hey, Austin," I answered. Already my voice was nervous.

"Hey, Ally!" He didn't seem to notice the unusual tone in my voice. "I just finished an encore performance in San Francisco! It was awesome! Seriously, best performance ever! How are things at Sonic Boom?"

At first, I thought he asked me how things were in Miami, and I almost instantly let the tragic news slip out of my mouth. It was evident that he didn't know yet. And, he was specific to point out how things were in Sonic Boom, not in the city itself. I wasn't sure what to say at first. Should I tell him the truth?

"Oh, uh, great, as usual," I said. "My dad's out at another convention and won't be back until this weekend." It was the truth. My dad was out at a convention. But it wasn't the whole truth.

"Oh, that's cool. I guess. But anyway, I have some big news to tell you!"

"Hmm? And what would that be?" That took my mind off the accident a little bit, but the thoughts still lingered in my head.

"I got nominated for Favorite Male Pop Artist of the Year at the American Music Awards! Isn't that awesome?!"

I widened my eyes in shock. Austin? American Music Awards? Oh my goodness, that is awesome! "Congrats, Austin! That's awesome!" I exclaimed into the phone.

"Yeah, I can't wait to tell everyone else! Oh, man, this is going to be epic! I'm gonna call Dez and Trish and _my parents_ soon."

My stomach tied a knot in itself. "You can't call your parents!" I yelled by accident.

"What? Why not?"

"Because..." I paused, thinking of an excuse. This was it, right? Austin obviously had no clue whatsoever. So I should tell him the truth. "Your parents are kinda busy right now. They're...at a mattress convention!"

"Oh, guess I'll call them later then."

Beads of sweat started to form on my forehead. "Well, they told me that they'd be...somewhere with really bad cell service and you're probably going to have to wait until you get home to tell them..." The feeling of guilt immediately took its place comfortably in my stomach. And there was no clear sign of it ever going away.

"Huh," Austin said. "All right then. Well, I'm going to be coming home in a couple of days, so no big deal, right?"

"Yep," I continued to lie. "No big deal."

"Cool, well, I'll see you in a couple of days!"

I didn't bother saying goodbye or see you later or whatever back. I couldn't believe I just did that. I didn't know what happened, but I just couldn't ruin the mood right now. Not now, with so much going on. Not with the end of his tour and the American Music Awards coming up – I had to tell him another time.

* * *

The next couple of days went by like snails – slowly. The hours working at the store dragged on and as much as I missed Austin, I dreaded his return to Miami. He deserved to know the truth, but nevertheless, part of me hoped that he would somehow never find out.

Maybe this was all just a misunderstanding. Or maybe this was just a wild dream. Or maybe I misread the names on the article. Maybe the Moons really are at a convention with really bad cell service, so maybe Austin will be telling his parents about the awards when he got home.

Or... Maybe not.

I was working behind the counter at the store like always when I saw him walk into Sonic Boom not long after his return. No, not walk – he _sulked_ his way into Sonic Boom. A second knot in my stomach was tied, and the guilt still hadn't left.

Austin's hands were in his pockets and his eyes were tired. When he reached the counter, he looked at me straight in the eyes, and I could just tell – he knew, he found out. I didn't know when he did, but that didn't matter anyway.

He asked me a simple question, "Did you know?"

I wanted to say, "Know what? What happened?" But I didn't want to have to go through with lying again. Over the phone across the country was bad enough, I couldn't do it to his face. So I didn't answer the question, I tore my gaze away from him, in a different direction.

The silence was enough of a response to him to figure it out. "Why didn't you tell me?"

This time I opened my mouth to say something, but what was I supposed to say? I lied to him. I closed my mouth.

"You _lied_ to me," he continued. I didn't know how it was possible, but I felt worse than I have ever before. "Why did you lie to me, Ally?"

My voice came out in a whisper. "Austin, I..." I turned my gaze back to his face, but not to his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to ruin anything."

"Ruin anything? My parents have always been more important than the music business. They matter way more than some award."

"But, it's not just _some_ award. That's the thing..."

He sighed. "Well, my parents aren't just _some _parents either." Austin started to walk away from me, and for a second he stopped to turn back and take a quick glance at me. But he then turned back around, and he was out of the store.

* * *

The funeral was another couple of days after Austin returned to Miami. Again, the days dragged on and within that time, Austin and I weren't talking. I wanted to apologize, but I didn't know how. I wasn't sure how to. This wasn't the first time that I've had to say two simple words, "I'm sorry", but I didn't have it in me to walk up to Austin and say them.

The day before the funeral I got a text from Austin:

_Funeral tomorrow at 8 by the church if u want to come_

I considered not going to the funeral. I didn't want to face him yet, as much as I wanted to. But I knew that I had to see Austin sooner or later. And I ended up choosing sooner.

The next day I was dressed in all black, completely different than what I would usually wear. Black dress, black flats, black purse – the outfit was coated with depression.

And it was covered in guilt and regret too.

When I got to the church, I saw Austin and a few of his relatives there with a few other people I didn't recognize – family friends I assumed. I saw him in a black suit, his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks, standing in front of the two coffins, side by side. His back was turned to me, and I couldn't see the expression on his face.

I wasn't sure how to approach him. Should I have approached him then? I thought maybe he was deciding now to personally pay his respects so I didn't think I should bother him. I took a seat in the back.

Once Austin was done, he turned around to see me, but he didn't come to me and sat down in the front row instead. I wasn't sure to interpret the gesture as if he was upset with me, or if he just wanted to be right by his parents at that time.

The reception didn't take long as it normally would. The priest gave the Moons his blessings and a few people gave speeches, including Austin.

Austin's speech was brief; he mainly talked about the best memories of his parents.

He talked about the time he was born, the first time both of his parents held him in their arms. They said that he barely cried as a child in general, which told them that he was strong.

He reminisced the time he got his first instrument – a guitar – at the age of 5. They said that the moment he got his hands on the instruments, he fell in love with it, telling them that he would come to really love music.

He remembered all the times where he got into trouble and was grounded for all the times he got caught. They said that despite all the trouble that he was learning, learning about life and from his mistakes, and that was an important thing to them.

A small smile appeared on his face as he spoke and I'm glad that he was remembering the good times he had with them.

But his eyes remained grim. They were still tired as they were when I saw him in Sonic Boom a few days ago. I wondered if anything has gotten better.

I highly doubted it.

He may have been grinning, but his eyes did not match his smile or his tone.

I could only hope that things would get better for him. Things always got better, didn't they?

* * *

It had been one month since the funeral. During that time, Austin and I barely talked, unless we were writing a song. But even then writing wasn't as much fun anymore; few words were shared between us. We still came up with new songs for the both of us, as we usually did, but in a way, it came easier – we nearly agreed on the first few ideas either of us had, so coming up with melodies or lyrics wasn't as much of a hassle.

On the occasion, I would notice that our hands brushed one another on the piano. Back then, we would stop for a second before continuing. Though, that didn't happen anymore; we just continued playing the song as if nothing special happened in that moment.

During all this, his eyes were the same as they had been a month ago. It was like nothing changed.

Each time I would ask, "Are you okay?"

And each time he replied, "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

I don't know, maybe because we hadn't talked about your parents once since the funeral?

But of course, I didn't say that. I always brushed off his unchanged responses like they were nothing.

I was never too sure of what to say; neither of my parents was necessarily gone. Sure, they were out a lot, and they may be divorced, but they weren't completely gone. I've had a few relatives pass away, but I was never too close to them. I wasn't close enough to anyone who had already gone to mourn for their death as Austin did with his parents. I wasn't even too close with my parents – with Dad always at conventions and Mom always traveling around the world. I loved them, but not in the way Austin loved his parents.

Lately, Austin had been leaving early during our writing sessions. Though the song would be just about done, he would leave soon after.

I would question, "Where are you going?"

"Just out. Need a bit of fresh air. I'll be back." Sometimes that would be his longest response of the day.

He then would leave the room without another word. However, it would be at least a half hour before he would come back. It was like someone froze the clock because that half hour always went by painfully slow.

But the thing that bothered me more about Austin was that whenever he did come back to the room was that he looked even more fatigued than before. His hair was more ruffled up, his hands were almost trembling, and his eyes seemed like they would turn _black_. I didn't question his appearance though. I figured that he still needed time to mourn, so I gave him time.

* * *

Another month had passed. I thought maybe things would have gotten better by now, but they didn't. Things got even worse.

Austin had stopped coming by for our writing sessions. I thought that he was still grieving and I continued to give him that time. Over the time, I wrote a few songs for Austin, hoping that any moment he would step right through the practice room door. But he never did.

He started becoming more...inactive in his music. Every now and then I would go on his website even though nothing has been changed on it for a while. Though, there have been comments from his fans, wondering when or _if_ a new video, a new song, a new blog, a new _anything_ would be coming soon.

Each time I visited the site, less and less people asked questions or made comments. Because of his inactivity, Austin was losing his fans...

I knew then that I had to do something. But, what? March over to Austin and tell him to get over his parents? That'd be a bit rude, wouldn't it?

I texted him first – once a day. They would be pretty casual responses, nothing too straightforward.

"_Hey Austin, want to hang out sometime? :)"_

"_Hi Austin, what's up?"_

"_Do you want to work on a new song soon?"_

"_Hey Austin :)"_

"_Hi"_

I sighed. After the 5th day, I gave up on him ever returning texts. Not even a simple "Hi" would get me a response. What was wrong? He didn't have to grieve by himself.

I started to call him instead, also once a day. But, it always went to voice mail. I never bothered to leave a message for him to listen to. Because, would he bother to listen to them? If he ignored the texts and the calls, what was the point of a voicemail?

This was driving me crazy – his grief. That and not having talked to him in such a long time. I didn't mean when we wrote our songs; I missed talking to him as my friend. It had been forever since having a good conversation with him, and I knew that it just takes _time_ to get over things like this. But this was getting ridiculous; it had been over two months. This couldn't go on any longer.

Again, I sighed and I left the practice room. I decided to go over to Austin's apartment.

Having been 18 years old, Austin was able to get his own apartment. I was glad for this, seeing as if Austin's parents were to pass away earlier on; he could have been transferred over to a foster home.

When I got to his apartment door, I knocked.

No answer.

After waiting a few seconds, I knocked again.

Still no answer.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of knocking again as if he would actually open the door at the third time. So, I didn't knock. But, I didn't walk away either. He wasn't going to get out of it that easily.

This time, I just jiggled the door knob a little bit, seeing as this was an older apartment building in town. At this time of night, there was no one around; it would normally creep me out, but I needed to see Austin.

The door was unlocked to my surprise, but when I pushed the door gently, it wouldn't budge. I pushed it again harder, and it did open, but I accidentally pushed too hard and went crashing into the room. I stumbled a few steps in, but regained my balance.

The first thing I noticed in the apartment is what I was stepping on. It was a drumstick of his, so I picked it up and set it somewhere else.

Austin's apartment was _huge_, or at least more so than the average apartment. Aside from the bedroom – which I had yet to see – there was a kitchen, living room, and bathroom. I didn't think the older apartments showcased a lot more space. However, the place was littered. Piles of dirty dishes were stacked in the sink, pictures on the walls were hung crookedly, and there was trash everywhere. It was a mess.

My eyes then lured to Austin's bedroom. His door was cracked open, and I made my way over to it, slowly. It was quiet, and I figured that he might be asleep, so I didn't want to disturb him. Not only that, but in all technicalities, I was trespassing after all...

As I pushed the door open, it creaked, and I stopped. But I still heard nothing from inside. I then was able to open his door all the way, revealing Austin's room.

It was just like the rest of the apartment – a mess. Austin was sprawled over his bed, still clearly asleep, though his covers were now on the floor. More trash was littered on the carpet and some of his instruments just lied on the floor, and away from their cases.

I stepped over the mess as to avoid breaking anything. Gently, I put my hand on Austin's shoulder, trying to wake him up. "Austin," I said. "Austin."

He groaned at first, and didn't move from where he was lying. He was face down on the bed and I couldn't see his face. "Austin," I repeated. "Wake up."

Again, he groaned, but this time Austin rolled over to his back, now facing the ceiling, facing me. He rubbed his eyes open. "Ally? What are you doing here?" Austin then sat up on his bed and I noticed that he seemed to be in a mess as well. His blonde hair sticking up, his breath was – let's just say he needs some mouth wash, and yet those hazel eyes were the same as I always saw them now. Tired, grim, almost hopeless by now.

"I wanted to check up on you. Haven't seen you around lately."

"Oh." That was his only response? _Oh?_

I waited a few moments to see if he would say anything else, but he didn't. He just gave me a questioning look. "Are you...okay?"

Austin sat up against the headboard, rubbing his eyes again. He cleared his throat. "I don't know, Ally. Do I look okay to you?"

"Not really," I answered honestly. "But-"

"You should go," he cut me off.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What? I just got here."

"You didn't have to come," he shook his head. "And you shouldn't have."

"I wanted to."

"Why?"

"I care about you."

"Didn't seem like it before."

I stared at him, confused. "What? I've always cared."

"Really." He said this more of as a statement rather than a question.

His irate tone shocked me throughout the conversation, paralyzing my mouth, preventing what I wanted to say from coming out. I said nothing that time.

Giving me a death glare, Austin flipped on his side on the bed so that he was facing away from me. "Do me a favor and leave me alone, won't you?"

Again, I said nothing. This time, I obeyed his command, and left his apartment.

* * *

I literally had no idea what to do anymore. Absolutely no idea.

The American Music Awards had seemed to pass by without notice. Austin didn't even bother to attend, at least, not that I knew of anyway. Though, I highly doubted that he did. Nevertheless, when I was watching the awards show at home, Austin didn't win; some other musician did. It bothered me of course that he didn't win the award, because he so well deserved it, but would he have cared whether he did or not?

I hadn't seen the blonde since the day I left his apartment. I hadn't gone against his request of leaving him alone – not just yet – and I wondered what he could be up to. If he was up to anything, that is.

Being the rock star celebrity he was, it was evident that the media needed juicy articles on him. By now, of course the news about his parents had gotten out. This resulted in his fan-base supporting him to no end, but unfortunately, Austin looked like he didn't notice a thing about that. It was all part of the _Downfall_.

The day I found the name, _Downfall_, in a magazine was a frustrating one to me. I wasn't melancholy or irritated – no, I was extremely _aggravated_ with everything by then.

Life was completely dull.

Austin was unwilling to show his face.

The media went to no ends to make this the story of the century.

I was furious when they decided to give the tragedy of events an actual _name._

However, no matter how exasperated I was, I didn't bother to stop the press from doing what they wanted. In all technicalities, it was their job after all, so I couldn't put all the blame on them. But I knew what would eventually stop all this. Because seeing endless magazine and online articles with the title _Downfall_ plastered all over the place had finally gotten to me. Something serious had to be done.

Austin wasn't himself anymore. He used to be this upbeat, joyful, optimistic guy, who enjoyed everything that life had to offer him. Now, he was a depressed, dull, pessimistic man who didn't seem to have one care in the world. If there was one thing that hadn't changed about him however, it was the fact that he was a star. I knew that much of him from then and now. Austin was still a star.

Time had changed him. I know it did. He was my star, and I looked up to him. Ever since the day we became partners, I always looked up to him – as both a performer and my friend. He was a star that always glowed in my eyes. But, it really seemed that he started to consume some bad red rust. That red rust dulled his bright shine and I hated that it did that. Yet, I still called him my star. I still called him that because behind all that red rust was the true star inside that continued to glow. Nothing ever changed that.

It hurt me to see him so...different. Normally, being different would be a good thing, but in this case, it wasn't. And I didn't know what to do exactly, but there had to be something that I could do. Something, _anything_.

* * *

_Let me be your superhero, there isn't a place I won't go._

_Whenever you need me by your side, I'll be there._

Sitting at my desk with my songbook, I stared down at the pages, remembering when I had first scribbled down those lyrics with that old wooden pencil. The song, _Superhero_, of course, had eventually been turned into another one of Austin's hits on the radio. It was one of my personal favorites to have written with Austin, and now looking back at it, it was definitely one of the best too.

The time that I had been publicly humiliated on live television – no, not the Helen show, though it was embarrassing – I was crushed on the inside. Long story short, in the midst of the moment, I remember the one and only Austin Moon came out onto the stage and picked me up from the ground, asking me if I was okay. Despite the fact that I didn't have stage fright anymore, I couldn't find the will to speak up, especially with everyone in the audience still laughing their heads off. Nevertheless, Austin took my silence as an immediate _no_, and put an arm around me as we decided to just leave the studio altogether.

Trish and Dez were there of course, but while they were trying their best to stifle their chuckles when we all left, I noticed from the corner of my eye that Austin was looking at me with deep concern. I wasn't sure what to say or even know how to say what I would have had wanted to say, but when I finally glanced at him, the looks said all the words for me.

"Don't worry about it, Ally," he said. "It'll be okay. It'll always be okay."

And his words were enough for me to let myself rest my head against his shoulder. I believed him. Everything was always going to be okay.

Now, leaning against the back of my chair in my room, I wondered that if he remembered, much less believed his own words. Maybe he just needed a reminder. That everything was going to be okay.

To me, he was an invincible superstar who could take life head-on with whatever it threw at him. I believed that nothing would ever be able to get him down or stop him. There have been times when that did happen, but events like those never lasted as long as it did currently. I supposed that I was wrong about him being invincible.

But that was okay. Sometimes superstars needed a bit of saving too. And I was going to be the one to be his superhero this time.

* * *

Austin once told me about how every once in a while, he would go to a lake nearby his old house in times when he needed to think by himself. It was like his own private safe haven. The way the tiny waves of water rippled, the way the grass ruffled underneath your feet near the shore, the way the leaves danced their way down from the trees with the wind – it was an environment where Austin thought he could relax and be at peace most.

I was headed there today. I realized that he may not have been there, but considering that he didn't want me to be in his apartment, and that he didn't show up at Sonic Boom anymore, this was the one place I could think of. The one place where Austin would still go.

Though I had only been to the lake only once several years ago, I still remembered how to get there. The thing about the lake was that it was just about in between Austin's old house and his current apartment, so to him, the distance should be near the same.

When I pushed away one of the leafy branch with my hand, I knew that my instincts were right on him being here.

Back turned to me, Austin was sitting with his legs out in front of him on the grassy shore of the lake. He picked up a thin rock beside him, then flung it across the lake, the stone skipping gracefully across the water before it sank in the distance.

He sighed and took up another stone in his opposite hand, and though he wasn't throwing it with his dominant hand, the skips were still so agile and successful.

I had never been able to do that; I always failed every time Austin tried to teach me to do it. It was just one of those things that I was completely incapable of.

And hopefully this would be one of the things that I _would_ definitely be successful and capable of.

I walked over to Austin with caution, not wanting to somehow drive him away from me. Settling myself on the ground, I noticed that he didn't take note of my presence. Or at least, he didn't look like he did. But, I knew that he _knew_ I was right here beside him, and at least he didn't get up and run away from me.

That was something at least.

I wasn't too sure of what to say at first. It's not like I really rehearsed any speech or anything, but I thought that the words would have been able to flow out of my mouth.

So, as always with a conversation, I started from the beginning.

"Hi."

As expected, I didn't get a response from Austin. He only stared ahead at the lake, not taking a single glance at me.

I sighed, taking what I wanted to give him out of my front pocket. I looked down at the object in my hands before back to Austin.

His eyes were still on the lake. I wondered what he was thinking about as he gazed out at the water. Again, I sighed, and decided to lay the picture on Austin's lap. Though it was a small, silent move, this was what caught Austin's attention.

He looked down at the item on his lap. It was a picture of us at our graduation. We were smiling, all dressed in our teal gowns and caps out in the sun outside of the school. Each of us was holding up our high school diplomas, and the grins on our faces were real, not just for the cameras.

However, it wasn't just us in the picture. Standing next to us on that sunny day as that picture was being taken – our parents. My mom and dad, his mom and dad; there we were, beaming at the camera at our high school graduation.

Keeping my eyes on him, I saw Austin's lips curl up into a small smile, but immediately it then furled back down into the same frown from before. Austin picked up the photo and looked at it more closely. He finally turned to me and put the picture on his lap again.

"Thanks, Ally," Austin said to me. He wasn't smiling, but his tone was genuine, and his eyes kind.

I took the picture of us off his lap and said back to him, "You know, I'm pretty sure you have a copy of this picture like I do."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. I just..."

"Just what?"

"Just... I don't know." He shrugged. "Can we not talk about it right now?"

Well, at least he was talking, not being able to make me go away obviously. His softer side was showing again, but he didn't want to talk about this.

And just for right now, that was perfectly fine with me. "Okay."

* * *

A few days later, I was working at Sonic Boom again behind the counter. Most days I'd be happy being at the store, surrounded by music, but lately, I hadn't been having those types of days.

Since the day at the lake with Austin, he and I hadn't talked. I assumed that he was spending more time at his apartment like before or maybe at the lake again, but I didn't bother to check. I was still worried about my friend, though not as much as last time. Our small talk made me feel a bit better about him, and I knew that he was feeling that way too. But, I wanted to see Austin again, and I hoped that that would be pretty soon.

As I handed the customer their change and receipt for their new instrument, I noticed someone walk in the store and line up right behind the person I was helping out. Once the customer took their things and exited through those glass doors, that left me and the person behind them in the store alone.

"Hey, Dez, what's up?" I asked. The redhead didn't look as bubbly as he usually did. Even his outfit looked almost...normal. Hands in his pockets, Dez rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

One hand slipped out of his pocket, revealing a folded piece of paper. "Austin wanted me to give this to you."

"What is it?"

"Don't know. Open it." I looked up at my friend, having expecting to have said something like, _"Duh, Ally, it's a piece of paper."_ He didn't seem like himself lately, but then again, who did seem like themselves at all recently? Even Trish was acting a lot more polite than she would normally, and honestly, that bothered me a little bit.

Taking the note from Dez, I started unfolding it, and then looked up again, but only to find the redhead _not_ there. He just...disappeared without notice. That wasn't like him at all either.

I then decided to just go ahead and unfold the rest of the note. It was short, leaving most of the lined space blank.

_I want to talk to you. Meet me in the practice room later tonight?_

_-Austin_

The thing about the note as I read it wasn't Austin's sudden desire to want to talk to me. It was that he did it through a _note_. Not a phone call or text message, much less telling me in person, but he had Dez deliver a note to me in order for me to get the memo. It wasn't like it was the first time he had given me a note, but still.

Nevertheless, meeting him up at the practice room later wouldn't be much of a problem considering I was already in the store. I just had to wait until tonight – whenever that was; it didn't really matter. I didn't have anything else better to do anyway.

Once 9:00 PM hit, I decided to close up shop – leaving the door unlocked for Austin, of course – and went up to the practice room. While I was waiting, I decided to open up my songbook to a new page and see if I could come up with any new ideas for a song.

I knew that sometimes ideas could take a long time to come across the mind, but with everything that's been going on I hadn't been able to write _anything_. It literally made me angry that I hadn't been able to write one song.

Austin's _Downfall_ wasn't only taking a toll on him, evidently.

After several minutes, I just opened my book up to a page that contained one of the songs that I wrote with Austin long ago.

Across the top was the title: _Superhero_

Getting off the chair I was in, I went over to the piano, settling my hands on the black and white keys. I took a deep breath and started playing the song just like I did with Austin the first time.

"You're gonna use up all your strength, trying to be so strong," I sang. Then-

"Don't have to shoulder all the weight, together we can take it on."

Immediately, I stopped playing and turned around. Just like promised, there was Austin standing against the door, arms crossed, one leg crossed in front of the other. It wasn't the first time that this had happened; I remembered clearly how many incidents there were when Austin would come into the room while I was at the piano.

Austin walked over to the piano bench and sat down next to me. He stared at me, and I felt like he was about to say something, but he didn't. Silence consumed the room, and it was just the two of us staring at each other, like we had all the time in the world.

Which we probably did. At least, I did.

"So, you said you wanted to talk, right?" I asked.

Austin nodded. "Yeah."

I waited for him to go on about it, but no words flowed out of his mouth. I sighed.

"Austin, talk to me."

He blinked, still not saying a word. Instead, he gazed at me with sorrow in his eyes. And I just desperately wanted him to say something, to open up to me again. Just like we used to.

What was holding him back?

"Please, say something."

His hazel eyes went to the piano keys, and then back to me. It was his turn to sigh. "Ally?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you lie to me?"

His question caught me off guard. I wasn't sure if my face flushed red or if it paled into a ghostly white. We've had that conversation before; I know we did. The day he came back from his tour. I never had guilt eat me up as badly as that day. I should've just told him the truth. What kind of best friend was I?

For a few moments, I said nothing. How was I supposed to answer a question like that?

But then, honestly to him, "I care about you. I just... I don't know. I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you. But, I shouldn't have lied. I'm sorry."

The blonde nodded again. "Okay. And, um," he looked away for a second. "I'm sorry too. For being a jerk and all back at the apartment. I just..." His voice was anxious as it faded away, leaving the sentence incomplete.

"It's okay, I get it." I grabbed his hand for comfort. "You were...grieving. And, trust me; I've felt the same before. Especially when my parents got divorced, you know? It's nowhere near-" I caught myself before saying _'death'_, and then continued. "It was hard to get over the fact that it was just going to be me and my dad. My mom was basically gone. I didn't know how to deal with it at the time..."

It was all true. Somehow, I had felt that Austin grieving over his parents' deaths could somehow relate to me grieving over the divorce. But it wasn't like my parents lied to me about their divorce, saying that one of them would just be moving out or anything.

"Look, Austin," I continued. "I'm just really sorry about all this."

He sighed. "It's fine, really. But, the thing is that... I missed them, you know? Never got to really...say goodbye. Goodbye for real, and not just until I came back from my tour."

"I know. It's just the way things are, I guess."

Quietness filled the practice room again. Then, Austin let go of my hand, but only to lay his head on my shoulder. I put my arm around him, knowing that he was still hurting on the inside.

Everything was going to be okay though. His parents may be gone, but that didn't mean he was going to be a lost rusty star alone in the dark forever. He was going to be just fine. He had me to save him, to get him through the darkness.

"Hey, Ally?" Austin spoke up.

"Yeah?"

He raised his head off my shoulder. "Do you think we can go over to the cemetery sometime? I haven't exactly visited..."

I nodded. "Of course."

Austin gave me a small smile. It was a small, weak smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. And it wasn't a fake smile; it was all real. I could see that some of that red rust was coming off, because he knew.

He knew that no matter what happened in life, everything was always just going to be all right.

* * *

**A bit of a cheesy ending, but whatever because I'm such a sucker for cheesy things. But, how was that? Hopefully that wasn't too bad, right...?**

**Also, I have news to tell. If you have looked on my profile recently, or have read my last completed multi-chap, then you might know that this is my last one-shot and last story to ever post. I'm quitting FanFiction. I know high school will keep me really busy this year, but I'm writing something outside of FanFiction too. It's kind of sad; I'm going to miss this. But I'm still going to be reading and PMing, so it's not like I'm totally gone. :P**

**So, let me know what you think and... Until next time. :)**


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